67 Bronson

I can still remember the first day I ever met my grandfather. I had graduated college and had come home to my family home, to find my father and he in a heated discussion.

My father was a lot like me, never one to share his past, to share his secrets. He kept that side of his life hidden from his wife and three children. To anyone looking in, my family had it all, wealth, success, and fame. My father was the top lawyer in his firm that he helped build from the ground up and my mother was by his side all our lives.

“What’s going on?” I ask as I enter the home of my parents. I may have never met the man, but I had seen pictures. He was the man we didn’t speak of. The man that boycotted my parents wedding because my mother didn’t come from money. The man that never wanted to witness the birth of his grandchildren, because they could never live up to the expectations he had installed in my father. The man my father, never spoke of.